On Sunday, MOH took us to Shearwater Lake.
It’s possible we’ve been there before, though to be honest, it didn’t seem that familiar.
There was a fishing competition on, so the banks were dotted with tents and poles with several keep nets in the water for ‘the catch’.
As a child, fishing was of no interest to me, yet my sister went with Dad on a couple of occasions, one of which being at West Bay in Dorset. (These days fishing brings back happy days with Bro when I visited him in NZ 5 years ago.)
We were on a caravan holiday (our first and only as a family) in a little tourer that belonged to a friend of my father’s who had taken it down for us as Dad’s car had no means to tow it. To be honest, Dad despised caravans on tow as he always seemed to get stuck behind one with no room to overtake, and his car was of the age where hills were always a challenge and if we lost speed and momentum, well, it usually meant we had to get out and walk (or worse, push).
The caravan wasn’t anything like the ones you get today, having no bathroom or loo, the table doubling up as the bed for Mum and Dad, and the two benches in ‘the lounge’ were beds for sis and me. There was a 2 ring burner in the ‘kitchen’ but no fridge, and a little sink where we could wash up one thing at a time. It was cold and damp though with condensation being a major issue, but as was the family way, we made the most of it and it was an OK week.
But I digress a little.
As we passed one tent, we heard music which made me think about the Morecambe and Wise sketch where they threw a Des O’Connor album into the water and all the fish jumped out. I have no idea what was playing on Sunday, but if I was a fish, I think I’d have wanted to get away from it!
The dogs had to be kept on leads so couldn’t go on ahead and explore very much, and sadly it started to rain. We made for the shelter of some trees only to discover that the bench was completely exposed, so we got wet anyway. It wasn’t that bad though, we had our waterproofs, and it certainly cooled things off after the recent heat wave.
As we watched, we noticed that no-one caught anything so we started having bets on the sleeping ducks in the water as they drifted towards the shore. The ducks looked a lot smaller than the ones we have here on the marina.
Walking back to the car, we met a chap with a Buddy lookalike. The dogs were so similar, they could have been twins. His was 13 years old and called Buster (Bud is about 11), but unlike Sir Barkalot, this Buster was quiet!
This was the view on the other side of the access road.
It would have been a lovely picture on a sunny day, and we could just imagine puttering our boat down river. Ah, the memory, and we’d only been back 4 days!